


Meet the Trapper

by lemonsarentsour



Series: The Trapper [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Fluff, Honestly this is a rollercoaster how do I tag all of this, Might get NSFW, Multi, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27804235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsarentsour/pseuds/lemonsarentsour
Summary: A new class, well-versed in the art of trapping and ambush, joins the team.  This will be sure to shake up the mercs.
Relationships: Demoman/Soldier (Team Fortress 2), Engineer/Reader (Team Fortress 2) - Relationship, I might change potential pairings later, Medic/Reader (Team Fortress 2), Sniper/Reader (Team Fortress 2) - Relationship, Spy/Reader (Team Fortress 2)
Series: The Trapper [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034328
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	1. Prologue

The drive in your beat-up truck back to your cabin was a calm one. The lackadaisical feeling that came after a job was one of the most satisfying things to you, particularly when it involved the shaky suspension and soft radio static of driving further away from civilization. 

‘A lot of hassle for a little bag’, you thought to yourself as you glanced over at the steel briefcase sliding around in the passenger seat. This job had certainly been out of the ordinary from day dot; a modest-looking woman in a lilac business suit had provided you with only a description of what you were to retrieve, and a vague promise of further employment should you complete the task to her satisfaction. While the idea of ‘further employment’ didn’t tempt you much, the paycheck for the one-off job did. 

Finally pulling up to the secluded cabin that you called home, you slid out of the truck, twisting yourself around to release the tension from several hours of driving. As you rounded your truck to retrieve the important bits of gear, your ears pricked at the sound of twigs cracking, swiftly followed by someone clearing their throat. Whipping around as you pull the petite concealed knife from your back pocket, you almost drop it as you see the same modest-looking woman staring at you.

“Sorry if I startled you.” Her hair was tied in a low bun, eyes framed by glasses, wearing the same suit as when you met her days prior. She looked strangely as though little to no time had passed for her since you last met. Lowering your weapon, but gripping it tightly, you manage to crack a tight-lipped smile.

“Startled me? Jesus, I almost bloody killed you!” A soft smile graced her lips as she extended a hand. This gesture leaves you a little startled, and your ears more than a little pink, before you realize what she wants. “Oh, yeah, hang on.” Practically flinging yourself across the driver's seat to conceal your blush, you fished out the briefcase from the dusty footwell, handing it to her unceremoniously. She turns it over in her hands two or three times, eyes narrowing as she inspects it, before nodding.

“Perfect. Now, can we discuss the terms of your contract? Inside, perhaps?” Contract? Her forwardness stunned you into silence, contemplating a furious back-pedal for a split second before it dawned upon you that it was too late. Instead, you let her into your cabin, switching on a few lights and lighting the stove to make tea.

\---

She spent the next half an hour or so explaining the details of a contract that she had, which sounded like a lot more trouble than it was worth. That is, until she mentioned just how much it was worth.

“So...let me get this straight. You want to pay me _that_ ,” you point at the lofty sum on the contract, “for protecting a gravel pit?” The tea that you had prepared for you both had long since gone cold, and you rubbed the back of your neck, puzzled.

“Pretty much, yes. All contractual obligations are laid out in the document you just read.” The woman, whose name you had since learned was Miss Pauling, was sitting forward on one of your dining chairs, leafing through the pile of papers on your worn-out table. Her green eyes glinted in the half-light as she glanced up at you, standing beside her, fighting the urge to pace. You had no family, no friends, nobody to leave behind. What was the worst that could happen?

“Fine. Yes. I’m in.” An almost sinister grin flashed across her features as she brought a final piece of paper to the front of the pile.

“Wonderful. If you could just sign…” pulling a pen from her hair, she offers it to you, “...here.” Daring one final look at her before you took the plunge, she seemed almost excited. As soon as the ink on the dotted line had dried, she began to tidy up the papers, popping open the case that you had given her and packing them away. Running a hand through your hair, you took a step back from the table, a soft sigh escaping you. 

“So, uh…what now?” She fishes around in the case, and you can’t quite tell what she’s doing. “Do I have to go somewhere? My kit isn’t exactly easy to transport.”

“No need to worry about that. I’ll take care of it.” Before you get the chance to retaliate, a needle sinks deep into the jugular vein in your neck, and you hit the floor only seconds later.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in the med bay of the RED base is even worse than it sounds.

Muttering voices are the first thing you heard, although they sounded as though they were several miles away. Your whole head pulsed as you resurfaced from the deepest sleep of your life, and opening your eyes only made the feeling worse. Managing to peer around, you saw what looked like the med bay of an incredibly inhumane prison. There were dirty instruments strewn across beds and tables around the room, and a glance up revealed an impressive blood stain on the ceiling. Groaning, you reached up to touch your face, making sure that everything was still intact before gingerly attempting to sit up. The burning sensation that radiated out from your chest made you cry out in pain, collapsing back against the bed. Your exclamation quieted the distant voices, replaced with the sound of heavy boots on the hard floor.

“Aha! You are finally avake!” The face that loomed over you grinned, that ominous grin that told you that this man could probably gut you without a second thought. His eyes glinted grey behind small, round glasses, and the hands that helped you to sit up had blood stains under the nails. In spite of all this, the mysterious German figure seemed to be the friendliest face you’d ever seen.

“What the...where am I? Who are you?” The man immediately began to check you over, examining your eyes with a small torch and pressing his fingers into your wrist.

“Yes, I am sure you are very confused. I am zhe Medic, and you are in zhe RED base. Zhis is your new home, _Fräulein_.” Staring into the middle distance, the memory of the smartly-dressed woman, the contract, and the needle, swam back into view.

“The...RED base? So that Pauling lady wasn’t kidding, huh?” Swinging your legs around, you attempted to stand up, which turned out to be a bad move. Your knees couldn’t bear your weight, your legs felt like everything that held them together was disintegrating, and you collapsed forward rather inelegantly. Thankfully, instead of feeling the cold floor meeting your face, you felt warm and surprisingly strong arms sweep you up and plop you back onto the bed.

“Ja, you may be feeling a little weak; your body is still adjusting to zhe new heart! I am sure you will recover as quickly as zhe ozhers.” Choosing to skip over the ‘new heart’ comment, hoping it was more of a figure of speech than a literal statement, you managed a weak smile.

“Thanks, Doc.” Even though the doctor wasn’t looking at you, you were sure you saw him smile just a little at the pet name.

“Now, nobody else knows zhat you are here, so perhaps you would like to settle into your room before meeting zhem? Zhey can be a little... _unberechenbar_.” 

He extended a hand, which you took, and he began to lead you out of the dystopian med bay and through winding corridors that all seemed the same. The more you walked, the better you felt, and by the time you reached the door that the Medic pushed open, you strode in unaided. The room was small and simple, but functional, with a bed pushed against one wall and a closet in the corner, and another door that you assumed led to a bathroom of some kind. 

“When you want to meet zhe rest of zhe team, you’ll find zhem in zhe common room. Left und left again.” With that, he disappeared with a swish of white(ish) coat.

“Thank you!,” you called after him, but he was already gone. 

Taking the opportunity to investigate the room some more, you found the closet contained several of the same outfit, and a suitcase with a few of your more prized possessions. Figuring it was probably as good a time as any to freshen up, you made your way to the shower and doused yourself in nondescript soap and shampoo - apparently Medic hadn’t been kidding about the new heart, as the gargantuan scar on your chest indicated. You donned your new uniform; a pair of dark brown cargo pants, heavy black boots, and a bright red jumper with cropped sleeves. Taking one last look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, and a deep breath to calm your nerves, you marched out towards the common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fräulein - Miss  
> unberechenbar - unpredictable


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the team is kinda intimidating.

‘Stay cool. Be cool,’ was all you thought to yourself as you stopped in your tracks in front of the heavy swinging doors to the common room. There was a small window in the top of each door, a little dirty from smoke and years of neglect, that gave you a glimpse of what you were about to walk into; five figures sat at a table, one huge and hunched over, another leaning back in his chair at smoke plumed from around his face. Across the room was a large, rather shabby-looking sofa, upon which there lay another collapsed figure, as someone leaned over apparently trying to wake them - the beer bottles littering the floor at their feet indicated that wasn’t likely. A tall, lanky figure was busy in the kitchen, or what you assumed passed for a kitchen, and you could make out a small flickering flame in one of the darkened corners. Taking only a moment so as not to be too daunted by the sight, you threw open the doors and struck a seemingly strong pose.

“Hi. I’m Robin. I’m the new guy in town.” The mixture of shouting, snoring, and clattering fell away, leaving only the sound of the mysterious figure in the corner flicking the lighter on and off. You were utterly sure that this was going to end very badly.

“Ah, zhere you are! I must zay, your internal organs are…”  
“...good lookin’. Say, I gotta couple BONKs back in my room, maybe we could…”  
“...stand to attention, Private! Don’t you know how to respect a…”  
“...little woman. Looks nice. Shame about…”  
“...ya blasted shoutin’ wakin’ me up! Ah’m tryna…”  
“...play poker? Y’all mind if I deal…”  
“...a sheila?! Crikey, this place is gettin’ better by the…”  
“...fireplace, I ‘ave some Chateauneuf-du-Pape far nicer than zhis…”  
“...mpph! Mmmhhpp, hmm!”

The cacophony only began to die down after each one of them had said their piece, and looked expectantly at you. Overwhelmed, but somewhat flattered, you cast your eyes over the room of misfits - they were a little rough around the edges, but seemed like a nice enough bunch. One of the men sitting at the table, who wore a yellow hard hat and goggles that made him oddly mysterious, shuffled over on his bench seat and held out a beer. Giving the room a ‘go about your business’ look, you took the offered seat and beer, the sound of the tab popping a rather comforting one.

“So, you’re Robin? The Medic mentioned ya a couple times before ya turned up, guess he was too excited about havin’ a new body to mess with he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.” Casting your mind back to the scar you found in the shower, you rubbed your solar plexus absent-mindedly, sipping your beer. It really did taste like piss.

“Yeah, that’s me, the one and only. And you are?” He chuckles softly at the face you pulled as you drank the beer, leaning back against the chair.

“Name’s Dell, but you can just call me Engineer. I solve problems.” His welcoming smile was perhaps going to your head more than the beer, but he didn’t seem to notice, which was rather a blessing.   
“That there’s the Heavy, and next to him Medic,” he gestures to the huge man in the corner and the German with whom you’d already become acquainted.   
“Over there, Soldier and Demo. Ignore Soldier, he means well.” You glance over at the figures on the sofa, one of whom was now shouting at the other.   
“Sniper’s in the kitchen, tryna steal our supplies again,” the tall man’s head whips around as he hears his name, shooting the Engineer a spiteful glance.   
“Then there’s Spy and Scout, they argue a lot.” He was right, the well-dressed man you assumed was the Spy seemed to be holding the younger man back, his gravelly voice barely travelling across the table. The Engineer took in the room once again, before noticing the flame that had made you so nervous when you first entered.   
“And Pyro!” He beckoned to the figure, who rose and skipped into the light, revealing a face completely covered by a gas mask. Sensing the anxiety in your sudden posture change, the Texan leaned into you, and your senses are overrun with the smell of oil and wood.   
“The Pyro’s real harmless, don’t worry.” Upon reaching you, the masked figure took your hand and beckoned you out of your seat. You stood on shaky legs, and they puled you into a huge bear hug, the likes of which you’d never experienced before. Just when you feared you might be winded for life, they released you, a noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle escaping from beneath the mask. Beaming, you sat back down, and they took their place cross-legged on the floor beside you, taking the lighter out and clicking it on again.

“Deal me in on the next game?” Dell grinned, getting the attention of the rest of the men at the table as he collected the cards from where they had been scattered. This might not be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wahey, guess who's back?! My job gets totally crazy around Christmas, hence the hiatus. I'm hoping to upload a few more bits going into the new year.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, one and all! I hope to make this into a series that branches out into different pairings and oneshots, who knows. Please let me know what you think; this is my first big writing project so I'm open to all feedback! Also, endless kudos to big_scrunch, author of Jack of All Trades, your work inspired me to try my hand at this.


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